BREACH OF TRUST

 

BREACH OF TRUST

 

Sinking in pool of tribulations

You gave me hope that I clung onto

Little did I know you were playing with my fears

And I with fire.

 

I placed my trust in you

Though your actions confounded  me

 I did not give wind to the

Unfathomable tales that puzzled my mind.

 

As the waves came hitting my shore

They washed away all dubieties

 Your deceits and your lies stood bare

 My soul was ripped apart.

 

You continued with your infringements

And I let you play your games

But this time I was mindful of you

My assertiveness bewildered you.

But I chose to remain silent

My silence was a tribute to the trust

The trust that I had placed in you

The trust that was axed by your greed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE PURSUIT OF LOVE

THE PURSUIT OF LOVE

Love in pursuit of self validation descended from above

Soaked in his own manifestation he walked around 

Happy to see a mother caressing her child

He planted a soft kiss on the infant’s forehead.

The onset of the journey was blissful

In continuation to his quest he peeped through the window

He whispered “beautiful” silently into the ears of the young girl lost in self admiration

He knew his worth was beyond doubts.

Love thought of lingering on a bit

The sight of the old couple caught his attention

Oh! He was the one holding them together

His joy knew no bounds.

Love strolled further until his eye fell on the two

 Their angry voices confounded him, he eavesdropped 

Frown appeared on his face and his joy dissipated

Love left the picturesque site all shattered.

With sinking heart love sat on the bench

 The blow to his self esteem was hard

The couple falling out of love, dwelled in his mind

It was enough to drive him mad.

Love trudged aimlessly as if he was impalpable

Till a kind sage held his hand

He listened patiently to love’s tale 

With great warmth the sage shared his words of wisdom.

Oh love! You are a source of joy and yet sorrow springs from you

You give strength yet you weaken the most vigorous heart

From you sprout the seeds of passion and kindness

Yet you also yield envy and greed.

But do not be desolate, do not walk away

For you have both the elixir and venom

It is up to man to choose

This eased love and he understood himself better.

From then onwards love says, love me without malice

Let me build dreams and relationships 

Give wings to me to spread smiles and hope

Let me nurture my love!

WHEN I MET GOD

 When I Met God

It was a despondent moment
With my heart revolting and head pounding
Lost in contemplation,I walked through the woods
By the stream I heard a voice, a voice that knew all
The story of my life unfolded before me.

I was startled, fear crept into every pore of my existence.
My perception seized, my feet refused to move
But the voice was pleasing and euphonic
 Fear abandoned me and I asked who are you?

The voice lovingly said
You are a manifestation of my energy
I am you and you are me
Hold my hand and you shall pass the hill,the woods , the fire ,the hinterland

Tears built a facade and I could see nothing
But the voice was distinct
I asked Why?
The voice said let gratitude replace dubiety
Be awaken, feed your soul
You shall be healed!


The voice faded away
But the pensive mood turned into a gleeful moment.
As I close my eyes I recount my rendezvous with God.
It fills my heart with peace and gratitude.



None can heal you other than you yourself!

ME AND MY MOTHER

Me  and  My Mother

This Mother’s day I stand on the periphery of two generations

I glance at my mother and then tenderly look at my daughter

My mother born with a silver spoon but in unfavourable times

When women had no voice, no choice

But my daughter is today’s force

She sure has a voice, with this belief I give wings to her dreams.

I gaze back and peep into my shadows

I delve deep into my Mother’s heart

Big enough to love all, endure all, give all

Resilient but extremely vulnerable

The values she holds on to, are becoming obsolete

People like her too are rare.

I too have a Mother’s heart, split into two

It is tender yet acts tough

One has a yearning and the other sings songs of melancholy

They say -a mother’s heart never betrays

It never conceits prejudices

But if it does, it speaks of no ordinary circumstances.

God smiled at the mother who came to Him to seek His blessings for her child but would not let her child remain alone with Him in His own house, such is a Mother’s heart.

Loads Of Love To All Mothers!

Remembering You On Your Birthday

Remembering You On Your Birthday

I stand here wondering where you are

The sun rays fall on your birthday dress

With your toys in attendance

I stand here looking for my piece of heart.

Beautiful memories come floating by

First time when I had held you in my arms

Daddy silently promised you that he would love and protect you always 

You smiled and stole my heart right away.

You gave joy and purpose to my existence

I looked at the world with more love and compassion

Your innocence rejuvenated all those who came across you

Your indomitable spirit is a marathon for us to win.

You were too good for this world

Now with dreams shattered and broken wings

I traverse the path, I continue my journey

With a hope of meeting you some day some where.

And when I will meet you

You won't be disappointed, for you taught well

Each day has a duty to be honoured,I shall always remember

And this time My little Girl when we meet it shall be for eternity.

Happy Birthday My Little Girl!!!

ON YOUR BIRTHDAY

On your Birthday

We may be miles apart but on your birthday

Your thoughts fill my heart

We may not reach out to each other every day but on your birthday

I wish you all the imaginable happiness

We may be breathing air in our own zones but on your birthday

I pray with all my heart for your prosperity

We may have drifted apart but on your birthday

I want to tell you, I cherish your enduring memories

On your birthday

I send you warm wishes, loads of love, truck full of joy

May all your dreams see light of the day

May love and loved ones always give you company

May each experience make you more beautiful

May happiness nest in your heart

Dear friend, our friendship is for posterity

It has endured many seasons and the fruition of it fills me with warmth

With the world is at its pace, thank you for being my friend.

Happy Birthday Dear Friend!

THE HUMAN TOUCH

With the wind beneath our wings we aim at the stars, with the world at our feet what else can we ask for? Enveloped by comforts and the never ending desires, with plates full of fanciful names, we sit in an ivory tower. Though we are always surrounded by known strangers yet in distress we are all by ourselves. The chasm within us deepens, we are haunted by our own thoughts, we cry loudly but no one hears. Suddenly trust, faith, friendship turn into a mirage. Perhaps this is because in the race to roar we lose our human touch and are left bereft.

Human touch is the essence of the existence of a fruitful civilization and sadly its absence is making headlines every day. We have doctors but the faith in them is waning, we have teachers but the high esteem attributed to them is scarce. We have leaders but leadership is hard to be found, we have artists but art that can transform a life is rare. We have professionals yet the backdrop is muddy. No matter what path we choose to earn our bread and butter, without the human touch we are mere machines living in oblivion.

When Alexander Bell invented telephone or when Charles Babbage invented computer or when John Baird invented television, what gave them more joy? The royalties or joy of contributing. The truth lies with them, one can only decipher. The healthy bank balance which does not find a charitable path, the intoxicating power of money and its abuse, just pumps in a lot of ego. It does not take us anywhere though I don’t undermine the role of money but can money not be earned while keeping the human spirit intact? After all it is just a matter of one breath for you and for me; for the rich and for the poor; if we breathe in and God says “that’s it”: that’s the end of all our pursuits. 

The human spirit has a healing nature, it is beyond the shackles of  deep or shallow pockets.  It takes more than the educational degrees for a teacher to ignite a young mind and open several gateways. The research in the field of medicine will truly be  beneficial, only if its fruit is not exorbitantly priced. If we could look beyond ourselves, perhaps we would refrain from exploiting others; perhaps the motherly touch will remain motherly even for a daughter-in-law. Perhaps placing trust in ourselves and in others will be easy.

We all can voice our choices and live life on our own terms. It is our discretion how we choose to contribute. I must add whatever we do, if we do it rightfully we are doing our bit. If each one of us adds a drop of human touch, we all will benefit from the sea of humanity.

DEALING WITH NEGATIVITY!

We all want to live in peace and not want our life in pieces. We do everything that is in our dominance to achieve this goal, yet we find ourselves scattered as shards all over. Negativity creeps into our minds and within no time its presence becomes conspicuous and it reflects in all that we say or do. We need to check negativity before the Pandora’s box opens. Therefore, first we must identify its source and then combat it. The sources can be extrinsic or internal.

I feel it is a plain sailing to shun extrinsic negativity. We just need to alienate ourselves from those people, the negative comments, that particular update, that text message, that debate which has the potential to push us into the rut. On the work front, at times it is not easy to close doors on negative people but a quick reminder about their relevance in our life will seize the moment and spare us the stress.

The negativity that arises from within is very creepy and must be administered quickly. We need to train ourselves to give positive information to our brains at the time of distress. We need to believe that we may be knocked down but we are not knocked out. Creativity drives out negativity. Don’t give your mind idle time to dwell on any negative thought. Look out for your talent and passion and give it a shot. Create something, it will not only propel positivity but will also evolve you. Keep your work station, living space spick and span. An immaculate surrounding will generate a healthy energy.

Confidence, positivity and spirituality need our attention each day, they are very elusive in nature. They become impalpable when we need them the most. Always remember there are many like us who are dealing with negativity. The only thing that makes us solitary is that we may not know them, we may not know their challenges. Let us be grateful for what we have, let us keep a staunch faith in our God and let us spread positivity.

TO MY FRIEND WITH LOVE

As one of my friends embarks on her journey, I wish her a very blissful married life. The face of mankind has changed, years have frozen into centuries yet the ethos of marriage remains the same, though the threads of this delicate relationship have been intrinsically immersed in the modern print.

I belong to the old school of thought; I firmly believe in the sanctity of this sacred relationship. I don’t judge anybody for the choices they make but I strongly advocate that once married, one should put one’s heart and soul in it to make it work. After all a happy home nurtures a happy future.

I think it is a good time to be born as a girl. Lets overlook some of the issues that women today need to address not that they are minuscule in intensity but because over the years women have built strength to confront them.  It is gratifying to see a more vibrant canvas. From education to career there is immense support. I have had the privilege of being acquainted with women who have shouldered the responsibility of their parents along with their husband’s family. I have known daughters who have set an exemplary example for the world to see the wonders that at times even the cherished sons fail to do.

With such empowerment the equilibrium of a marriage changes. Are we prepared for the changes? Is our society ready to accept strong headed women? Are soft hearted men considered as masculine as others? Are the two ready for role reversal as and when required? This transitory equation defines the tangibility of a marriage.

Mutual respect is of prime importance, understanding and love will find its way. One can never understand or love someone at the drop of a hat. Both these virtues take their own course of time, but one can always respect someone without making cosmic effort. Another key catalyst which sparkle the relationship is sharing: Sharing responsibilities, ideas, finance, household chores, fears, joys and sorrows. It takes small things, baby steps to bind two individuals who are raised in different shades of the same colour.

Our Earth is a perfect teacher who nurtures millions of different species by maintaining the balance of all the existing forces. Therefore balance is of utmost importance in any relation. As you tread on this exuberant journey I pray for you and your better half, discover your new self together, unveil each other’s strength, and give wings to your yearnings, fly together and conquer all your dreams.

Wish you a very happy married life!

THE REALM OF TRUTH

A very insignificant incident triggered my train of thoughts and I traversed into the realms of truth. There I witnessed picturesque maze, treacherous gorge and a confused myself. The more I tried to understand the more I felt falling into the chasm. Perhaps truth is neither as simple as it appears to be nor it is a virtue without a consequence.

Yet we seek it with all our might but when the bare truth stands and stares right into our face we immediately disown it. What makes it so difficult to embrace it?  Why do we counter it with several logical reasoning which subconsciously we know we are doing only to delude ourselves?

Like Rotation and Revolution are the two absolute dignified and peaceful truths that we all live each day there are numerable minute and colossal truths that cross our path.  Each truth may not validate us but we need to understand that truth is multifaceted.  If each one of us could accommodate truth and I must add that it takes immense courage to speak truth and it takes titanic strength to just lend an ear; living in real world which is so overshadowed by reel world would become easy. Our generation can find some peace and the coming generation will have lesser issues to tackle.

Let us not limit ourselves and get trapped in our fragments of belief, let us look out of the window of our narrow walls and reach out to the other side of the truth. For this would ensure more productive society more tolerant society and more happy society. Living in denial is catastrophic; we must embrace truth in all its shades and layers.

What is truth? Perhaps truth is a kind word spoken at the time of distress, perhaps truth is an experience that has a lesson to impart. Perhaps truth is just a moment which is destined to just pass by, perhaps truth is a reflection of our inclination, perhaps truth is just a feeling, perhaps truth is a healing balm or perhaps truth is a dagger.

No matter how you define truth, it is empowering, it is multifaceted and it requires us to be open minded and strong  for the weak can neither make an alliance with it nor can feel its subtle beauty.

EPHIPHANY

The enchanting breeze flirted with the lush green fields before falling upon the clear stream flowing by. The wild roses took pride in their manifestation and the soft rays of the sun wrapped the little village in its warmth. This essence though insignificant to the world it was Hari’s world. He wowed never to trade his heavenly village with the glitter of city life. His fifth winter imparted him the wisdom that big cities cajole people with its shimmer and finally imprison them, perhaps his father too was trapped somewhere.

As he strolled to school he had a strong urge to go back and he had a good reason to do so, moreover the boys had threatened him that they would beat him up again if he complains. He must keep quiet, for disclosing his anguish would invite more trouble.

 If they did not learn the tables and he did was it his fault? He just did what he was asked to do but perhaps he slapped them too hard after all they were considered to be the strongest boys in the school and their reputation was at stake.  The repercussions of such a misadventure were inevitable. But was disobeying the teacher feasible for it too must have come with consequences. Nobody in the history of Dera School had ever disobeyed Lokhan Pal Singh because he was the most qualified man in the entire village thus on his frail shoulders lay the onus of classes IV and V. Shyam Lal taught classes I, II, III and his versatility would be at its best while hoping from one class to the other though he never knew what to teach. The lessons always got mixed up and that was a minuscule mistake as he was fully convinced that neither there was much difference between the difficulty levels nor between the students. All were wretched and education won’t do much for their fates were already sealed.

It was a fine Monday morning, all the classes were asked to come out and sit in the sun. The children were more than happy to be set free from the dingy classrooms. After a hectic Sunday the two masters did deserve a restful Monday. Bunty and Mistri carried two chairs and placed them outside .Dera Primary school had a total strength of 50 students from class I to class V not that population was under control but bread and butter were  more valuable than the alphabets.

Hari quickly climbed the steep hill from there he would be able to see the road. The scenic beauty of the hill would give joy to any heart , the fields exuberant with the trees standing tall gave rhythm to the soul and the wind sang songs of harmony with nature and the small village at its foothill seemed to be God’s chosen place. But this joy was elusive to Hari’s heart; he yearned only for his father.  It had been his daily ritual for past six months ever since his father had left with a promise that he would come back soon. Each uphill climb was filled with hope, may be today is the day, may be today he will disembark the bus. Hari would rehearse what he would say to his father, how he would pretend to be mad at him, how he would hug him and most importantly make him promise that he would never leave him and go away ever but each day the heavy steps downhill would fill his heart with utter despair.

By the time Hari reached the top of the hill he was out of breath. He anxiously fixed his gaze at the road. He had no watch to keep a track of time, with a pounding heart he said a silent prayer and the sight of the bus on the meandering road did give delight to him. But his exuberance was short lived, the bus passed by without stopping. With his head stooping down he trailed back, climbing down was always wearisome for him.  This winter was adamant to bite into his body and heart alike.

His mother knew how badly he missed his father but when you are living in penury the never ending grind to make two ends meet smothers such emotions with a thick blanket of helplessness. Finding the missing pieces of a puzzle would mean going out on an extravagant journey with an empty stomach without any outcome. The heart of a woman can bear several blows but she cannot see her children suffer. She had to cheer him up; she dug out her hidden wooden box and counted the money that she had managed to save to repair their wobbly door which no longer had the strength to fight the wind and keep it at bay, but the door could wait. She had enough to make Hari’s favourite dish. She needed to buy some ghee, good quality rice, dry coconut, fennel seeds and jaggery.

Kishan lal the village postmaster respectfully handed over the letter to Lokhan Pal Singh. The contents of it brew a storm in his cup and it broke the peace of the fine Monday morning. The records need to be set right, the attendance register had to be inaugurated and the students had to be taught thoroughly: all in a week. A poor inspection report could ruin him.

Hell broke loose, and it interrupted the peaceful Monday. All the students were asked to sit class wise and both the masters concluded that Festivals are Fun would be a good topic for the inspection. For Hari the real fun was waiting back at home. When others were learning about Festivals he was lost in the memory of fragrance of sweet yellow rice. How he waited for the school to get over. All the festival fun was imprisoned elsewhere.

The morning was as usual, Moti incessantly barking and annoying everybody, his sisters bickering, his grandfather coughing, his mother throwing the cow dung in the field and shouting simultaneously. Amidst his Hari woke up and soon realized that his little hut was full of aromatic air, He jumped with joy, the aroma of his favourite dish assuaged his anguish and he could not wait further to relish the delicacy. He carefully placed the sweet yellow rice in his tiny hands and the journey from his hand to mouth was full of caution for he did not want even a single grain to fall.  He chewed it slowly to savour every ingredient of it. He was jealous when his sisters finished their share and asked for more. Though his plate had more than what his stomach could hold he still asked for more. When they all left he got up and kept a portion of it in an earthen pot and looked around to find a safe place where he could hide his wealth. Finally he hid it below the bed the only piece of furniture in his hut.

 In the midst of rattling of names of different festivals, the safety of his asset would keep troubling him, what if his sisters chance upon his earthen pot, they would conveniently forget him and rob him, it is a big family thus the traces of such a rare royalty must have been wiped out by now. He just wanted the school to be over and run back.  Monday seemed to tease Hari as it was in no hurry to pass by.

When the masters called it a day, it was music to his ears; he dashed out of the class pushing away other boys. His wings were on fire, beating the dancing bridge, the brook, the inquisitive amma of the village, the herd of cattle that refused to budge, jumping from on field to another, ignoring Moti’s aggressive barking, the palpitating heart was about to tear his tiny chest and he was just a few moments away to know whether he was victorious or not. With his torn school bag still on his back he peeped underneath the bed, his hands frantically searching for his prize and to his relief he found his earthen pot patiently waiting for him.

He heard footsteps, must be his sister, he looked at his sweet yellow rice and considered them to be too precious to be shared with anybody he ran out with his earthen pot, he raced towards a secluded spot but as he spotted his coveted place he tripped and the pot broke and the rice scattered all over ,the rice that he wanted to put into his mouth lay all over, tears rolling down his cheeks he wondered  when next would he get this, he stood there frozen , Moti came and savoured his sweet yellow rice.

Hari annoyingly glowered at Moti.  He was full of disgust for him and wondered why didn’t his master kill him instead of just letting him lose to live a stray and irk others. But this vicissitude led to a moment of epiphany, somewhere both of them were betrayed by their own. Moti licked every grain, he too got a royal treat after a long time, compassion made way for a smile and Hari  patted Moti and sauntered back towards his hut.